Savannah morning news. [volume] (Savannah) 1868-1887, 1887-01-30
MARTIN CROCKER'S MOTHER.
BY PATIENCE sTAPLETON.
Author Of "The Mayors Christmas" and
jean Mcclure"
Copyrighted, 1857

| kin recollect to day when he first
struck our imp. There was something
20 sorter peculiar about him that he
6xed himself in the mind. He got inter
business right away on account of fair
( and honest deels, for men felt he might be
relied on to keep mum about find. In
that quiet way OF his he KEEP a looking
for claims on his own account and got
hold OF good property. The whole camp
kinder liked to see him prosper, for he
want none of the self-righteous KIND, but
would smoke pipe or tell yarns with the
boys as free as any one. Never drank,
though, not a drop, couldn't git
him to, and was always as perlite to
Dne kind ot wimmen as another, though
avoiding the worst kind. as was easy to
Sc.
He'd been in Rollinstown for couple
of months or so when one night be had
some trouble. 1t was in Tully's dance
hall. The music was playing and the
girls were singing ana dancing on the
stage, and the crowd was sitting to small
tables drinking beer. Dandy Mike was
pretty full and he come up and begun to
twit Croker about not drinking and
finally called him a coward. Croker he
Bet patient a good while while a crowd
gathered round. / urged on him to tight.
also stated / would stand by him frenzy
and see fair play.
boys, | ain'y a coward, nor amt q
drunkard, but | can drink ana can fight.
If after bearing this letter you still want
satisfaction, Mike, l will fight you out
side when you are sober. | will not be q
barroom brawler, nor will l fight a
drunken man"
He took from his pocket a letter post
marked Denver, writ in beautiful clear
writin on fine paper:
MY DEAR Son: hear you are going West
to a mining camp; that since Aunt Martha s
death the East Is too sad for YOU. l love you
more for your self-reliance and energy, but
j fear for you now. | know you are true and
honest, so | ask you TO keep the old prom Sc
YOU have written me for ten years, beginning
in childish characters faint and blOtted mp to
the firm fair handwriting of manhood. /
shall be satisfied. Promise me for one more
year to keep your pledge of temperance, of
honor to man and woman, OF forbearanCe
and charity, and my heart will be at rest.
Do nothing that shall keep your noble ewes
from meeting those of your mother in frank,
loving gaze.
Martin Crecker read the letter
steadily.
81 wrote my mother that PROMISE" he
said quietly, looking reveTeutlv at the
paper. lit was not much to promise ones
mother. Perhaps sOme OF you have good
mothers living, have good mothers dead ::
have all you who have kEOWn your moth
ers been true to their teachingss | have
never seen nay mother. | knew nothing
but the little village in Maine, the kind
old aunt who cared for me. but since oan
remember | have received these letters
from my mother. | do pct know who she
is, where sbe 10, or why she has never
made herself known, but | DO know
the letters are pure anC good, lifting me
higher, making me more worthy to meet
her."
he picked his s0mhssro up and went
quietly cut into the stariit night. There
was sorter bush after be went as if a
funeral was passing by, then Rose
Martin give a wild screeching laugh
and climbed up on the stage and
begun to sing: wv mere il my boy to-
nightg"
Some laughed and apDlauded, but not
the most, and though | seen the old nag
round mining camps for twenty years and
heard her old rasplng voice all the time,
she never seemed cOarser nor meaner
than that minute. ! could see the grin
ming skull under her red and white paint
lying deep IN the wrinkles and the old
yaller Dleached hair was more OF a
mockery than the giddy short gown
and mincing step. The highest to ma
ture is the best, and that honest-eyed,
cleRn-hearted young teller was better than
Rwhole lecture and tracts give out to I'll e
CLOSE.